


The South Holds The Key

by Alice_Writes_Stuff



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prequel, tyrell siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 18:20:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13440534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alice_Writes_Stuff/pseuds/Alice_Writes_Stuff
Summary: After the loss of his family, Loras Tyrell's main focus has been on his younger sister, Margaery. However, when an invitation to King's Landing is sent their way, the two decide to go south for a few days. It is there that Loras meets Renly Baratheon, the King's Hand, and the sparks fly between them. The question is, though, how long will their relationship last?





	The South Holds The Key

**A.N- Hey, guys! This is a prequel to my Sansaery Anastasia AU, Once Upon A December. It's intended to give a bit of backstory to the Tyrells, as well as other characters like Renly and Jon. Hopefully you guys enjoy it! Don't forget to read and review. As usual, I own nothing.**

Chapter One

_October, 1919, King’s Landing_

Loras hadn’t wanted to go south again any time soon. After the massacre at High Garden two years ago, it felt like there was nothing left down there anymore. Better to stay up north with Margaery, where they were both safe.

However, when word of King Aegon’s coronation reached them, his sister begged him to take her. Invitations had been extended to the living members of all the great houses, including the Tyrells, so really they had every right to go.

It took him a while, but eventually he did give in and agree. He sent a telegram to King’s Landing, confirming that they planned to attend, then started planning for the coronation.

Between them, they had inherited a considerable fortune from their family- House Tyrell had once been one of the richest in Westeros, and all that money now fell to them. Loras had explained to Margaery several times that this fortune couldn't last forever, and they had to make it stretch as far as they could. It was hard, because Margaery was thirteen, and growing fast, but they did their best.

“Do we have to wear green?” Margaery asked as she tried on a dress for the party. They’d outgrown the fine clothes they’d had before the revolution, and Loras had taken them to get new ones, so that when they arrived in King’s Landing they would look their best.

“Ideally, yes,” he replied. “We’re the last Tyrells- someone has to wear our colours, before they’re forgotten.” As he spoke, he examined a green tie which was embroidered with gold roses. It was lucky they were able to find these things- neither of them had the skills to make their own.

“It could be worse,” she mused, setting a crown of fabric roses in her hair. “At least I look nice in green.”

“Very true.” A thought struck him then. “You know, King Aegon is only a year older than you.”

“I know he is,” she replied. “What’s your point?”

“My point is, he will soon be looking for a wife- or at least a betrothal.” If he could pull this off, then Margaery’s safety would be guaranteed for the rest of her life.

“So you want me to marry him?”

“Only if you want to.” She thought about it for a moment.

“I’ll think about it. But only if you come too- otherwise I’m not interested.”

“I don’t know if that will be an option. What would I do there? What role could I have?” Margaery was quiet for a while. Then she snapped her fingers and smiled at him.

“You can marry the Hand of the King!” Loras frowned at her.

“Margaery, why would you suggest that?” He looked around quickly to see if anyone had overheard them.

“Why not? King Aegon’s a year older than me, and Lord Renly’s a year older than you. It works out quite nicely, doesn’t it?”

“You can’t say things like that, not here.”

“Why not?” she asked again.

“Because this isn’t the Reach, or even Dorne. The other kingdoms aren’t like ours, they wouldn’t accept me being in a relationship with another man, especially not someone as high up as Renly Baratheon.” Margaery frowned at that.

“The other kingdoms need to grow up, then.” Loras nodded, unable to argue with that. He turned back to looking at one of the suits he’d picked up, wondering whether the tie he’d been looking at earlier would go with it.

“Anyway, why would I want to marry Renly? I’ve never met him, I don’t even know what he looks like. What if he’s not my type?”

“I’m sure he will be. What was your type again? Tall, dark and handsome?”

“And a beard, I wouldn’t say no to a guy with a beard.” He shook his head. They really, really shouldn’t be talking about this here.

“Of course, how could I forget that?” She smiled at him, obviously enjoying this conversation. He didn't blame her- it was more normal than most of their conversations these days.

After they'd finished getting suitable clothes, Margaery decided that they needed to learn how to dance.

“ _You_ need to learn,” Loras clarified. “ _I_ already know.” He just barely knew, and he didn't really know what sort of dancing they did at King's Landing, but he still knew more than Margaery, which was the important thing.

They spent the next week or so trying to learn how to dance, with minimal success. There was no music- and no way to get any- and in the end, they did little more than move around the dusty old ballroom in a circle a few times. Perhaps that would be enough, but somehow Loras doubted that it would.

“Maybe we'll get lucky, and nobody will ask us,” Margaery said at the end of the week.

“I doubt anyone will ask us.”

“Why do you think that?” Loras shrugged.

“For one thing, you're only thirteen, so you may be too young. And for another thing, I won't get asked.”

“Why not?” She sounded almost offended, which made him smile a little.

“That's not the way these things are done. It's the role of the gentleman to ask the lady, and the role of the lady to graciously accept.” Margaery frowned.

“What if she doesn't like him, though? What if he smells bad, or steps on her toes or something?”

“Then he smells bad and steps on her toes, and she smiles politely and accepts it.”

“I'm not sure I want to dance with anyone now,” Margaery said, wrinkling her nose a little in disgust. Loras bit his lip to keep from laughing at her.

“Well, maybe we'll get lucky. Maybe everyone will ignore us.” She nodded, and looked around the ballroom.

“What if the king doesn't like me?” she asked after a while.

“He'd be stupid not to, and you know it.”

“Yeah, you're right.” She smiled at him. “And if he doesn't, then never mind. At least we tried, didn't we?” Loras nodded. They could only try, that was all anyone could do. What would come next only the king could decide.


End file.
